


Delta

by ArmadaOfShips



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: A/B/O, Angst with a Happy Ending, DCColdwave, F/M, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, coldflash - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-01-09 17:41:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12281313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArmadaOfShips/pseuds/ArmadaOfShips
Summary: S.T.A.R. Labs' particle accelerator gives Barry a little more than just speed, and of course Barry wouldn't be Barry if he couldn't find a way to use his gifts to help those to whom fate has dealt a rough hand.





	1. Lemony Goodness

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! This is my first fic for Flash and my first fic for A/B/O. I only have a few toes into the A/B/O pool so far, but I had a muse pop up and hit me over the head with some Science!ish things to do with the genre, and I decided to give it a whirl. Fair warning, even though this starts off looking deceptively Barry/Iris-centric, this is definitely going to head in a Barry/Len/Mick direction. Rating may change. Polite criticisms completely welcome as this fic is unbeta'd. 
> 
> Buckle up kiddies, let's have some fun!

Barry Allen’s childhood took a sharp detour when his mother was killed, his father was wrongly incarcerated for murder, and Barry went to live with Detective Joe West and his daughter Iris. Even to have experienced such a shift as a child, when his mind was comparatively elastic and his future was wide open, it made an impression that would shape him for the rest of his life. But life finds a way to proceed with the business of being lived, and even manages to attach some silver linings to the bleakest of storm clouds.

One such silver lining was that, even though his parents were a bonded Alpha/Omega pair rather than Triad, and by all accounts happy with their chosen state of affairs, Barry had the previously unknown benefit of living with a Beta when he moved in with his foster-father Joe. In that quiet, suburban household, Barry mourned the supportive, nurturing presence of his biological father. He cried his tears and desperately tried to be as courageous as his mom always seemed to pull off effortlessly. Given time, living with the Wests reaffirmed his bone-deep love of family. And watching Joe, he learned dedication, resourcefulness and problem solving, and a solid respect for law and order.

Schools taught that anybody on the A/B/O spectrum has the clear Triad personality mechanic which is kind of like their default mode of operating, but everyone can push their comfort zones and affect mannerisms of the other mechanics as needs arise. It may not be necessarily easy, in fact some found it downright exhausting, but it could be done effectively along the same vein that Alpha commands could be disregarded if a Beta or Omega committed to do so. But what really drove that home for young Barry, probably even more than Iris could appreciate, was how Joe clearly put his children first and donned whichever type of Triad hat was needed for their wellbeing. His scent never changed, but if they happened to be chewing cinnamon gum while Joe took charge of a situation, the illusion was complete that Joe had transformed into an Alpha on the spot.

Barry and Iris, as young zetas who still carried the lemony scent of having not reached maturity and therefore had not had their Alpha/Beta/Omega status decided like taking a spin under the cosmic sorting hat, had one of the best examples in Central City that one’s character and heart mattered just as much as one’s biophysical imperative. So, the older Barry got, the more he wanted to emulate Joe and truly help people from within the structure of the law. Right alongside that was the firm belief that he could dream big and, if he worked hard enough, he could make those dreams a reality. There was a quote by Henry David Thoreau that resonated with him, “If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them.”

Dreams were something Barry had aplenty. All through his teen years he held the not-even-slightly secret desire to see his dad’s innocence restored and his freedom once again attained.  Anybody who acted surprised to hear that Barry enrolled in prerequisites for the CSI program at the local college before he was even out of high school was clearly just messing with him. He had loaded on the sciences over the years in support of that particular dream, and his top-notch grades were the natural result of Barry’s unflagging dedication to his goal.

The dream that Barry kept much closer to his chest was that he longed to be part of a bonded Triad. Sure, some of that could be attributed to the fact that Barry never outgrew the childhood notion that his parents’ love for each other was something pure, a bond achieving mystical levels. Something to be idolized. He had a perfect memory of them gazing at each other in adoration. Some could also just as easily be pointed to the fact that as Barry’s zeta years were coming to a close in his late teens, he started to pick up on a certain echo of loneliness and longing in Joe. If anybody deserved to reach that higher plane of belonging, nurturing and contentment that textbooks described the Bondstream  being, Barry believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that Joe should have an express pass to the front of the line.

It was a testament to how close Barry had become to his foster father that he even picked up on those few signals of loneliness he did. Any slight tension around the eyes or most minimal sigh wouldn’t have been even detected by anyone else. Barry zeroed in on those tells, catalogued them. And somehow he still managed to be the slowest person in his acquaintance at picking up any other social or Bond cues. He’d spend some time ruminating about whatever faux pas he’d stepped right into during the day before he decided his mental energy was better spent on schoolwork and divert his focus in that direction.

Iris hit maturity first, despite being a few months younger than Barry. But these things did not follow hard and fast rules. It was one of the few areas that biophysics had in common with plain old human biology. Human hormones activated when the brain was good and ready, and Bond quark receptors also followed a schedule that couldn’t be predicted with certainty. Was it any wonder, when it had only become recognized as its own branch of science within the last forty years? Previous attempts to explain the Bond experience, Triad stability and the urges associated with Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics had been based in medical theory and had consistently fallen short in reliable explanations. The further medical science advanced, the more glaring those shortcomings were, until finally some freethinking scientists, a priest and a rabbi decided to approach the subject again from scratch.

When Barry pulled his nose out his textbooks, he realized he was not immune to the way Iris’s smile made his heart beat faster. He could find himself stalled in his studies, reading the same paragraph several times over without any of the information soaking in, and when he stopped to consider the situation, he’s realize he was still experiencing a floaty feeling from some kind word she’d spoken to him hours earlier, or some funny instance from her day that she’d popped her head into his room to regale him with.  He hadn’t graduated from college yet when he started to realize his love for her exceeded the brotherly devotion of years past. The realization buoyed him up with a warm feeling and he tentatively added to his collection of dreams the idea that maybe fate would align them in such a way that they could be in a Triad and spend the rest of their lives together. Barry had always firmly believed that he’d enter into a Triad and the result would be all-encompassing love. It could only help fate if that love already had firmly planted seeds, right?

As it was, Barry got the inside scoop from Iris about the morning she passed from zeta into maturity in fantastic detail. The soft pajamas she’d been wearing, the song she’d been listening to while she ate her toast and scrolled though the morning news on her tablet. One moment she was picking apart an article and considering how she’d have led the interviewee in a completely different direction, and the next moment, she felt and instant of clarity that had nothing to do with the first two cups of coffee that she’d had. She described it to Barry, “I felt so alive and connected… with the planet, with love of humanity, even with myself in a way that I’d never felt possible. I felt timeless. Peace and hope and comfort, they lived and grew inside me. I never wanted it to end! Everything a Triad could be, concentrated into a single, crystal moment of time. Oh Barr, I almost cried when that feeling slipped away again… but then your lemony butt walked into the room and I just wanted to do everything I could to protect you and help you feel everything I’d just felt.”

Barry understood what a life-changing event it was, how it was very common to want to share that experience, and sharing as brother and sister was how they’d grown up, so it was easily an extension of that. But Barry had been there just after the newly minted Alpha had come down off her Bonding high, and had experienced those initial nurturing impulses first-hand. Not that Barry minded Iris insisting on making him breakfast before his first day of work at Central City PD as an actual Crime Scene Investigator. But every time she told the story he was already rolling his eyes even before she mentioned his lemony butt.

Iris becoming an Alpha seemed to merely double down on her drive to become a top investigative reporter. She had been following her passion as it was, but the Alpha instincts convinced her that uncovering the truth and laying it bare for all was her pre-ordained way to care for the masses.  Having a solid career with advancement on the horizon would allow her to provide for her own Triad someday.

The other thing that blossomed in Iris when she matured was her new scent as an Alpha. The funny thing about one’s A/B/O scent was that it was nearly impossible to smell your personal smell. The reason Iris kept bringing up Barry’s eau de citrus was because zetas had a very uniform and mild scent, to the point where they basically didn’t notice it, even on others. Then, when they matured, it was nearly impossible to capture what one’s own unique smell was. It seemed to only come through when one was with members of the A/B/O spectrum that were different than their own mechanic and had high compatibility with, and then each scented the other in conjunction with their own unique scent.

Barry’s lab at Central City PD had permanently acquired the scent of the chemicals he worked with on a daily basis, but it smelled more pleasant than usual with a delightful mix of Big Belly Burger meals and Iris’s chai-like essence when the S.T.A.R. Labs particle accelerator blew and Barry Allen was consumed in the lightning that would alter his life’s path once again.


	2. Alpha Mick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, Mick and Len cross paths for the first time...

The Central City Juvenile Correction Facility sported paint in the same muted grays that had been used since it had been built back in 1939. It was reasonably well-maintained, but it never boasted much in the way of creature comforts. While other juvenile facilities in the US were less punitive in nature, C.C.J.C.F. was meant to scare its inhabitants into a more law-abiding mentality by giving them a realistic sneak peek at what a life of incarceration would be like and to provide the means for sentencing minors convicted of crimes. Bare necessities only: food, water, clean cells and regular trips to tepid showers with generic soap and an unchanging wardrobe of jumpsuits. It wasn’t meant to feel like home away from home. The terrible joke was that, to some of its occupants, it was still an improvement upon their original home life.

Despite the low success rate of actual rehabilitation, little had changed in how the juvenile correction was operated either.  The teenage boys in the care of the government facility had, to all outward appearances, embraced their roles as the least empathetic of their age group, and their wardens, guards and other staff never considered that the boys would hardly have a chance of improving if they never witnessed any examples of human decency and kindness. Phrases like ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ were generally insisted upon, but were used as expressions of resentment rather than anything approaching honest gratitude.

Leonard Snart felt like nothing was out of the ordinary when, mid-way through a foggy Tuesday morning on his seventh week at the Central City Juvenile Correction Facility, he was minding his own business and a handful of fellow inmates chose to surround him. The threats to make his life a living hell that were spat from the lips of fellow miscreants with shaved heads were par for the course as well. All but one of the boys was older than him, and they were all beefier. The only thing that was a little unusual was not a helpful aberration: the lanky Beta who was leading these thugs was holding an impressive metal shiv.

Len took a couple of deep breaths as the circle closed in around him and he tried to will time to slow down so he could think his way out of this situation since he clearly couldn’t muscle his way out. Unfortunately, neither the Beta nor his followers were receptive to his attempts to talk to them, and he was just tensing and preparing to take his licks as his father had taught him when the unexpected did happen. Before any of the fists flew Len’s way, an older Alpha inmate who generally kept to himself launched himself into the fray.

This Alpha –Mick, Len believed his name was- did not engage in any talk whatsoever. As far as Len could tell, he hadn’t even been out in the yard with them when this began, so he had no idea what was even happening. His fists appeared to do all the thinking and talking for him, first shoving the largest of the group aside into two of his companions and then turning to deal with the shiv that was suddenly being jabbed towards his belly. He merely deflected it, didn’t even try to take control of it, but opted instead for a cross and a hook to the Beta’s head that appeared to have all the force he could muster with his roughly two hundred pounds of body weight. One of the guys split immediately, but two others came up behind Mick. Len called out a quick “Behind you!” but Mick just soaked up a jab to the ribs from one as he hefted the practically unconscious Beta up and tossed him like dead weight at the second guy’s torso with a grunt. Both went sprawling. Then Mick twisted and sent a cross into the guy that had jabbed him, and before he could recover, he caught hold of the guy’s jumpsuit and started to throw him down on the ground when the guards finally intervened. Only when the guards started pulling boys from the jumble and restraining them did Mick spare a glance for Len, and, using a voice deep with Alpha command, hiss “Scram!” in his direction.

Len suddenly realized he’d been standing there, frozen to the spot. If he didn’t move along quickly, he’d be swept up with the rest of the boys that had been scrapping and have to deal with the repercussions of an altercation he’s had no part in. Len nodded in Mick’s direction, hoping the Alpha had seen him out of the corner of his eye, before making himself scarce. He had to force himself to not get distracted by debating if he’d just witnessed his first stroke of good luck, or, even less likely, genuine kindness since he got caught robbing that gas station a week after his fourteenth birthday and landed himself here.

It would be two more days until Len and Mick crossed paths again. Len was known for being quiet and calculating, but he also didn’t pussyfoot around. He hadn’t spent any time learning any of the crafts or trades available to residents of C.C.J.C.F, but that didn’t stop him from striding right into the workshop he’d spotted Mick in. The Alpha spared him only a quick glance when he joined him at a tall workbench covered in a variety of samples of leather, pliers, hammers and other tools. Mick appeared to be working an impression of flames into a supple piece of scarlet leather. Len took a moment to try and place the scent from the Alpha, which he quickly decided was reminiscent of a peppery barbecue rub.

“Mick, right?” Len jumped right in. “What possessed you to spare me a beat-down on Tuesday morning?”

Mick let the hammer strike the metal stamp a couple more times before he set it down and looked at Len. Len could see the moment Mick recognized him, and the amount of time it took drove him to further ask, “Did you even know my name before you and your fists showed up on the scene?”

Mick huffed, nearly a laugh. “Actually still don’t.”

“Well I know being new and being a zeta puts me towards the bottom of the pecking order around here, but I owe you one, so do remember my name. Leonard Snart.”

“Got it,” Mick replied and turned back to the workbench, appraising what he’d already created. As he was reaching for the hammer, he glanced to Len, looking surprised to see him still there. He was opening his mouth, and Len could see it in the other’s eyes that he was just about to suggest that he scram once again.

Rather than stick to his original question, which seemed moot since Mick had already forgotten the incident, he casually inquired, “So, why leather?”

“The guards won’t let me have a lighter since I broke one of their noses last month. But when I connect just right with the hammer and the stamp, I can at least get a spark. Fire’s my thing.” He punctuated that statement by lining up the stamp and swinging the hammer down swiftly.

Len crossed his arms, leaned against the workbench and nodded, impressed with how far Mick was willing to go in pursuit of a spark in this meaningless place. For the first time since he’d landed in this godforsaken place, he felt a spark of life within his own chest.


	3. Fresh Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our hero awakens!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge Thank You to everybody who has read this!!! This is my first story with multiple chapters and the response has been so exciting! I'm a little shy, but I do a little happy dance for every kudo and comment =-)
> 
> Right now my plan is to put my own spin on many of the events from Season 1 before I branch out in a new direction. I'm not going to rehash everything, but enough to give you lovely readers a sense of the timing and to play with anything that will ultimately build on the story line I'm aiming for.

Barry was lying in a bed that was definitely not his. He couldn’t reconcile the feeling of having just woken with also feeling like he had had way too many shots of espresso. Even before opening his eyes, he knew there were two people in the room with him, but their smells were not familiar. Neither were their voices- what he could discern over Lady Gaga’s singing.

He sat up, barely noting that he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and gasped, “Where am I?!”

Barry was not reassured when the other man in the room actually jumped and shrieked out “Oh my God!” his fist coming up in shock. But he composed himself quickly enough, temporarily ignoring Barry to snap into a cell phone, “Doctor Wells, get down to the cortex, like right now.”

Then Barry was getting pawed at, a light in his eyes causing him to flail as a woman who smelled of crisp juniper manhandled him. “Pulse one twenty,” she stated, “Pupils equally reactive to light.” She wasn’t even slowed down with her poking, prodding and examining while Barry yanked the tube of an oxygen cannula from his nose and began similarly pulling electrodes from his chest. She carried right on, commanding, “Look at me!”

The light was out of his eyes, and then Barry could see that she was a young woman with fair skin, brown hair and wearing a dark top. The other man- also young- rushed over. As the woman started fiddling with his ears, the man was trying to calm him. “Hey, hey. Oh, oh, relax. Everything's ok, man.” The young man with dark, shoulder-length hair and warm caramel-toned skin was focused on him and placed a hand on his shoulder; his other hand held a piece of red licorice.  “You're at S.T.A.R. Labs.”

 “S.T.A.R. Labs? Who… who are you?”

“I'm Cisco Ramon. She's Caitlin… Doctor Snow” he corrected himself.

Doctor Snow didn’t so much as acknowledge the introduction. She did take over his field of vision, and once she had his attention, she waved a plastic cup in his face, stating, “I need you to urinate in this.”

“Not this second,” Cisco interjected, snatching the cup, and Barry didn’t sit still to see if the Alpha male would get his point across.

He may not be an Alpha, but he needed some answers! “What… what is happening? What is going on?” he demanded.

“You were struck by lightning, dude.”

Barry was almost tempted to let Doctor Snow run some more medical tests. There was no way he heard that correctly. He was clearly confused, yet feeling strangely wired. The weird thing about that was that he didn’t feel at all jittery like he normally would when feeling either a caffeine or adrenaline rush. He took in the room around him and spotted a monitor with an image of a sort of familiar body. Familiar, except distorted like a fun house mirror, if a funhouse mirror could emphasize one’s muscles.

 “Wh… Lightning gave me abs?”

“Your muscles should be atrophied, but instead they're in a chronic and unexplained state of cellular regeneration,” Doctor Snow supplied, patting his arms, pecs and shoulders, as if she needed to feel confirmation of her own diagnosis with her own two hands.

Before she could get too carried away, he felt the faint scratch of licorice on his shoulder as Cisco grasped him from behind and led him back to a stool with a redundant, “Come here, have a seat.”

“You were in a coma,” Cisco continued.

Barry’s head whipped around at that statement. “For how long?”

A third voice joined the conversation from the far end of the room. “Nine months. Welcome back, Mister Allen.” It was a man, dressed all in black, sitting in an electric wheelchair. He was in his forties, with glasses on- plastic frames that were black at the top and clear at the bottom. He had an air of eagerness about him. “We have a lot to discuss.”

* * *

 

Later that day, Barry scurried out of S.T.A.R. Labs, too eager to see his family to sit still for any of the tests or questions the doctors were trying to push on him when he felt perfectly fine. Thankfully he felt energized, because, without his wallet and bus pass, he had a bit of a walk ahead of him. First: home, where he was relieved to find the spare key right where it had always been in the hidden lockbox. Once he showered and changed into some of his own clothes, even if they were now snugger over muscles that he didn’t have the last time he wore them, he turned his feet towards the Central City Police Department. With one very important stop along the way- CC Jitters.

Barry entered the bustling coffee shop where Iris had been working for a little over a year…. Make that closer to two years, now actually, adjusting for the time he was in the coma. In less time than it took for her to pour a cup of coffee, she had noticed him and rushed to his side. She jumped up and hugged him before stepping back and looking at him, halfway disbelieving he was there in front of her. “Oh my God! You're awake! - Why didn't S.T.A.R. Labs call us?”

“I just woke up,” he replied, a huge grin splitting his face.

“Should you even be on your feet?” She looked him over from head to toe again.

“Iris, I'm …I'm OK,” he said, shaking his head.

Her expression dropped to one of seriousness. “I watched you die, Barry. You kept dying and your heart kept stopping.”

Her concern caught up with him, and he felt a little humbled by it. He placed her left hand on his chest, over his heart. “Still beating.”

“Feels really fast.” She was returning his smile again.

Suddenly there was a commotion. Someone jostled a waitress carrying a huge tray, which she lost control of. Barry couldn’t believe his eyes when everything on the tray started heading for the unforgiving tile ground, but at a speed so slow it seemed to disregard the normal laws of gravity. At the same time, Barry realized that the energy he felt since waking up in S.T.A.R. Labs must be the Bondstream, because he seemed to have a flare of that energy and it coincided with a realization of the Alpha, Beta, Omega or Zeta status of every person in the room at once.

Neither one of those things made sense. Gravity was proven to be one of the laws of physics because it was reliable. And sorting out where somebody stood on the A/B/O Spectrum in a room so jam packed with people plus the overwhelming aroma of coffee would have been practically impossible without interacting with them individually, in close quarters, with an effort made to tune out everybody else.

Iris didn’t notice Barry’s moment of confusion. She turned back to her coworker to check on her. “Are you ok, Tracy?”

The other young woman looked up from where she was already applying a towel to spilled coffee.  “Yeah, I got it.”

Reassured, Iris brought all her attention back to bear on the man who she considered her dearest friend and practically a brother. Then she let loose a targeted question the way that only a family member can. “So, Barry. You have been driving me crazy for nine months. From the very beginning, when they brought you to the hospital, you were missing your lemony Zeta scent. But your new scent just smells like, well, like really clean air. You smell so different, but I can’t get any kind of a read on if you’re Alpha, Beta or Omega. So, spill!”

Barry was floored. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he’d hit maturity. The instantaneous way he’d just known the biophysical imperative of everybody else in the room was how he was supposed to be aware of his own alignment on the A/B/O spectrum. Yet he’d read everybody else, but the certainty he was supposed to have about his own mechanic was… not missing, but strangely just out of reach. Like something just on the periphery of his vision or a word on the tip of his tongue. Maybe he should have stayed for more tests at S.T.A.R. Labs, because something was clearly off with him.

Iris noticed his distress and took pity on him. She waved her hand dismissively. “What am I doing, we need to get you over to the station! My dad is gonna be so happy to see you. Let me get my stuff, ok? I'll be right back.”

Barry seemed to snap out of his introspective fog enough to grin and nod at her, but as soon as she was back behind the counter he took a deep breath and made plans to be a more cooperative patient for the folks at S.T.A.R. Labs that might help him explain what was happening to him.  


	4. Sittin on the Dock of the Bay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, another glimpse at Len and Mick, back during their late teens....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Attention: There will be smut in this chapter. 
> 
> A note on age: For the sake of this story, I'm saying that when Len and Mick got intimate they were both at or beyond an age of legal consent, even if some of Len's documents misled some people in authority to believe he was younger than he truly was.
> 
> Also, since I'd rather over-warn than under warn, please know that the subject of arranged bonding comes up.

Len had finally been released from Central City Juvenile Correction Facility early on a Tuesday morning in autumn. Since he was still a few months shy of eighteen years old (according to records that had been falsified with the hope of lightening Len's sentence), he had been released into the “care” of his father. The only real benefit to having any contact with the man who sired him was the fact that Lewis knew where Len’s sister, Lisa, was. Just the thought of not being able to care for Lisa had always twisted his stomach into knots even before he'd matured into an Omega. 

Another thing that predated Len's A/B/O biophysical maturity was starting a relationship with Mick. Their friendship had been sudden, but their elevation to partners and lovers had happened more slowly. Once their mutual attraction had advanced beyond occasional quiet yearning to actual sexual tension that had other inmates muttering "get a room," Mick finally looked Len in the eye, and in his rumbling voice, carefully avoiding Alpha command, asked, "Should we back off or just go for it?" 

Len appreciated that he did not pussyfoot around. So they went for it with the enthusiasm of pent-up late-teenagers at every opportunity they could pull off in their incarcerated state. Those chances were far and few between, but they still set the foundation for a deep bond between the two. Their relationship was built more by virtue of having spent time present in each other’s lives rather than at the mercy of a hot flash of hormone-driven passion.

Len was genuinely thrilled for his partner when Mick’s parole came up. By then Len had learned how to navigate the system with relative ease, and he had enough seniority that he was skirted with wary respect. He had also shot up to a touch over six feet tall. That, coupled with Mick's reputation for aggressive protectiveness, kept things on an even keel, even after Len had his first connection to the Bondstream and became a newly minted Omega with his partner on the outside. Unfortunately, it was little balm for the fact that he missed the pyromaniac Alpha who had wormed his way into Len’s heart.

It was mid-morning when Lewis collected Len from CCJCF in a Buick he may or may not have obtained legally. Lewis wasn’t a man who showed affection, but Len took it as a sign of Lewis’s relatively good mood that he wanted to stop in to see a few associates with Len in tow: guys from his crew, somebody Len didn’t know until later was Lewis’s current fence, and the Darbinyans, who were holding court in their usual restaurant. Len tolerated making those rounds with as much silence as he could muster. Lewis was clearly planning to bring him right back into his criminal game. Len didn’t oppose crime on principle, but he had always been less-than-impressed with the people in his father’s circles. Really, he just wanted some comfortable shoes and to see his sister and Mick.

They left the Darbinyans’ den around 5:00, too early to be invited (is it really an invitation if there’s an undertone that refusal is not an option?) to dinner. On their way out, Araz, the leader, had insisted that Raffi gift them with a bottle of cognac. That was the icing on Lewis’s day. Len felt emboldened enough to ask as they headed back to their place for the night, “So, is Lisa waiting at home?”

Lewis glanced thoughtfully in Len’s direction, not pausing from peeling at the foil seal to the cognac bottle with one hand as he drove. “Not three nice words for your old man all day, but all eager to see your baby sister?” he drawled. Clearly Len had hoped for too much. “Since you got yourself busted, I’ve had to make other arrangements for her care. She’ll come home when I’m good and ready.”

With that, Lewis had the cork out and had a good swig of the amber liquor while they were still six blocks from ‘home.’ Len considered offering to drive, but knew Lewis would just see it as an affront to his skills which would likely lead to violence. Plus, if he happened to get pulled over, there’s no way he wouldn’t get tried as an adult, and he didn’t want to think about the headache that driving without a license plus an open container in the vehicle would surely bring.

On the bright side, it was still early in the evening when Lewis was black out drunk. Len left him sleeping on the sofa and set out on foot, heading for the waterfront. It was a few miles, but he was eager, so it only took him a little over an hour to reach the park that edged the water, and then another twenty beyond that to leave the gentrified promenade with the coffee shops and tap rooms behind and ease his way into the more shadowed warehouse-lined piers. Sitting on a bench between the third and fourth warehouse was the Alpha who’d come to be family to him in ways he had never experienced before.

Len stopped, suddenly self-conscious. Mick had been out for months, and this would be the first time Mick had seen him as an Omega. Mick stood, looked him over, and his eyes widened. The moments dragged on, until Mick growled out, “Would you get over here?!” dripping with Alpha command that he usually was so careful to avoid. Len didn’t have any desire to resist, he closed the distance between them and they roughly embraced. Len quickly kissed him on the side of the mouth and just as quickly, they separated again. But the ice had been broken and they settled onto the bench side by side and looked out over the water.

"Did you see your sister?" Mick asked. He was fully aware of Len's love for the youngest Snart as well as his disregard for the rest of his family and his particular loathing of his father. 

Len stiffened on the bench. What he really wanted to do was cuddle into Mick's side. He'd never been one for physical comfort before he'd become an Omega. He shook his head forlornly. 

"The old bastard has her hidden away somewhere. Like he knew seeing her was the only reason I was putting up with him."

Mick reached out and took his had hand, and proceeded to hold it. Len was surprised at the extended contact. Apparently Mick had more Aplha instincts than he'd expressed when he was a Zeta. 

"He's going to keep holding her over my head now. Just wants another peon for whatever his next heist is. And he's all wrapped up with the Darbinyans now." Len blew out a frustrated breath and then looked sheepish when his stomach rumbled loudly. 

"Have you even eaten since you've gotten out?"

"Just a handful of peanuts when we went through the bar so Lewis could drop in on his fence."

Mick looked at him in quiet contemplation. "You ain't really underage, right?" 

Len scoffed and shook his head. "No, but even if I was willing to be out on the street to get away from him, I don't want to give up on Lisa. She's the only reason I have anything to do with that scumbag."

"I've been drifting these past few months. Nine out of ten Alphas could offer you more, but it fuckin kills me that your asshole father won't lift a fuckin finger to take care of you. I know everybody says not to bond young since it's permanent and all, but I never figured I'd be around all that long before some fire sang my name and did me in. But even with all that, I think being your Alpha would be the best thing in the world."

Len couldn't remember the last time Mick had seemed so tense. He just wanted to curl up in his lap and bury his face in Mick's neck and inhale his peppery scent for days. "Are you... Are you saying we should bond?"

"That's what I'm saying."

"You've always been the one with something to offer Mick. You have been doing the heavy lifting for the two of us for years now as far as this relationship of ours is concerned. I feel like the one who's two steps behind, running to catch up."

Mick finally dragged him closer with an arm around his shoulder. "You act like an Alpha don't want to step up and take the lead. There's two things I got goin for me in this life: fire and you."

"In that order?"

Mick gave him a look. "Would that be a deal-breaker?"

"It wouldn't. You wouldn't be you without your fire, Mick." Mick nodded and didn't seem inclined to say any more. But Len didn't need time for deliberation. "Yes."

Mick closed his eyes a moment and smiled one of the most sincere smiles Len had ever seen on the Alpha. After a few moments, he kissed Len's temple, gave one final squeeze with the arm over his shoulder and stood, drawing Len with him. "This calls for Big Belly Burger." 

That sounded like a celebration to Len. "Lead the way, Alpha dear," Len said, and he was only partially sarcastic.

* * *

In a quiet basement on the edge of Central City, Len could not get Mick’s clothes off fast enough. They had waited all afternoon for Len’s father Lewis to have a reason to vacate the premises of his safe house so they could have some privacy. They restrained themselves for a good ten minutes after the sound of Lewis’s car had faded, just to try to be sure they were alone- Len counted the seconds silently to himself.

Then their gazes met, and they stood without exchanging a single word and made their way to the bedroom Len had been using. Their grubby tshirts were on the floor before the door was shut, and they were kissing, caressing, and tantalizing each other as they maneuvered their way toward the mattress on the box spring with no frame in the corner. Len had one hand on the back of Mick’s neck as the long but nimble fingers of his other hand began the unfamiliar process of unbuttoning Mick’s jeans. There were no similar fasteners on the jumpsuits they had worn for previous intimate encounters… except last night.

"Alpha, I've been wanting you, needing you, all day," Len keened between kisses. Finally Mick's pants were undone and headed for the floor. His boxer briefs followed quickly after. Len's shoulders smoothed up and down Mick's back and then lingered on his ass. While his would be receiving more active attention, he could still appreciate Mick's nicely muscled posterior. He gave in to the temptation to grip the cheeks and gently squeeze while their lips continued to dance and their tongues intertwined, partially smothering a moan from Mick. 

As they held each other close, their erections brushed, and Len parted his legs slightly so he could position himself even closer and increase the friction as he thrust against Mick. Their lip lock broke as they both gasped. Mick lifted Len, wrapping his thighs around his waist and lowered them both to the bed. He smoothly kissed his Omega's jaw, neck and clavicle as he scooted his way down the younger man's body, Len's legs relaxed on either side of him. 

Len was able to catch his breath momentarily while Mick shifted southwards, so he took advantage by groping in the drawer of the tiny nightstand for a bottle of lube. As soon as he retrieved it, Mick whisked it away with a grin full of lusty promise. 

Mick had made it as far down as Len's navel with his mouth, and his left hand slid down to Len's cock, where he grasped it and gave it three slow, firm strokes. Mick then paused to make eye contact with Len before giving the slit of his cock a wet lick and then closing his lips over the tip. Len moaned obscenely as Mick let his mouth sink as far down on Len's erection as it could go and letting his hand give additional pressure down to the base. His right hand, which had been grasping Len's hip, gave a squeeze as well, and then slid around his thigh, past Len's balls and trailed finger tips around Len's anus, alternating light and firm pressure. He had to move his left hand to Len's hip to hold him down when the Omega couldn't hold back from thrusting upwards.

"Mick, want you inside of me Alpha!" Len moaned, and Mick knew from his tone that he was close to coming. He gave one last luxurious suck on Len's cock before removing his mouth and hands. Len could have a tiny break while Mick made a show of rubbing lube on the fingers of his left hand. He sent a questioning look to Len and waited to get an eager nod from him to slide a finger into him and begin stretching him gently. 

"You are hotter than fire, Omega," he murmured as he added a second finger. Mick was flat on his stomach and the feeling of the sheets did nothing to ease the ache of his own impatient erection. Watching Len's reactions while his fingers slid in and out, sometimes scissoring, and occasionally deliberately stroking his prostate had Mick nearly desperate, but he took the time to work Len up to a full three fingers before even thinking about entering his partner. 

Mick lubed his own cock quickly and traded his fingers for the head of his cock at Len's hole. Len couldn't lay still, trying to pull him inside with a leg curled around Mick's waist. "You tell me if 'm hurting you or need to slow down," he said with his low voice laced with Command, and then pushed inside. 

They both moaned, which was still a novelty. They'd always needed to be as quiet as possible in the past. But as Mick began to thrust and Len encouraged him with the squeeze of this thighs, they both indulged in making as much noise as they pleased. 

Within only a few minutes, Len's breathing began to hitch, and Mick was right on the brink. He once again ran his hand firmly over Len's cock, and Len thrust into his grip as quickly as the pace of Mick's thrusts let him. Len held his breath, his whole body tensing, and, with a cry of, "Alpha!" he came. Watching the blissed-out look on Len's face while he tensed around him brought Mick to his own orgasm just heartbeats after.

Once they both came down from their orgasmic highs, Mick pulled out and they dashed, naked, down the hall to the bathroom to get cleaned up together, always in close proximity and touching each other frequently. 

Twenty minutes later, the two young men stepped into the hallway, with Len in the lead, wearing only towels around their hips. Lewis Snart was leaning against the doorway to the room Len was using, where the clothes were still scattered across the floor from their earlier activities. Lewis didn't say anything at first, just gestured them into the room with his hand, but he remained in the doorway so they couldn’t close the door on him. Len steeled his features and then led the way in. 

When they were nearly dressed, Lewis finally spoke up. "You friend needs to leave and I don't want to see his face around here again."

Len finished tugging his shirt on, made quick eye contact with Mick and then turned to his father. “Then I go with him, it’s as simple as that.”

Lewis’s face revealed the ugly snarl Len had been expecting from the moment he realize he’d returned. The color of an over ripe tomato was creeping in in blotches up his cheeks. Yet his eyes remained calm. 

“I think you’re forgetting who’s family here, Leo.”

“No, I learned that lesson of family first quite well, thank you. That’s why I’m going to stick with my Alpha.”

Mick stepped up next to Len, offering the support of his presence. He sent a very unimpressed look at the older Snart. 

“Sonofa… Leo, damnit…. You don’t even know the trouble I went to. Damnit!” He kicked the dresser and breathed heavily through his nose a moment, then turned to glare. The next moment he was inexplicably laughing. “Here I had it all arranged for you to bond with Davit Darbinyan, set you up real nice with an Alpha with prospects, but thought I’d have to talk you into considering bonding with a man. Now the only way to bond you into the Family will be to see if Araz has plans for his Beta daughter Milena. Fuckin hilarious since that’s not even the way your interests appear to lie.”

“Why the hell would we Bond with Milena?” Len did not like the direction this was going. 

“Oh I think you fuckin know why, son.” 

Len grit his teeth. “Let me talk to Mick. Alone.”

Lewis rolled his eyes but did take a hike. 

Len took a deep breath and faced his Alpha. “Mick, as long as we’re together… do you care if we go full Triad?”

“Buddy, I hadn’t planned to do any bonding previously. Makes no difference to me, but why would you even wanna go along with his plan?”

“I want him to give me… give *us* custody of Lisa. I don’t think Milena will cause us much trouble really. I know it’s asking a lot, but I think having Lisa with us could be just about the best family I could imagine, Alpha.”

Mick gripped his shoulder. “Yeah, Omega, I’m in.”


End file.
